


Sin and Sinuous

by RavenAurelieChoiseau



Category: Sterek - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha Derek Hale, Alpha Mate Stiles Stilinski, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Barebacking, Begging, Birthday Party, Blow Jobs, Breeding, Come Marking, Come Sharing, Come Shot, Come Swallowing, Coming Untouched, Costume Kink, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Deepthroating, Dom Derek, Dorks in Love, Drinking, Duet, Flirting, Giving Orders, House Party, Karaoke, Knotting, Light Dom/sub, Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Marking, Mate Stiles Stilinski, Mates, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Mutual Pining, Not Wearing Underwear, Oral Sex, Pining, Porn with enough plot to make it more than a ficlet, Priest Kink, Rimming, Rough Kissing, Rough Oral Sex, Shameless Smut, Singing, Smut, Spit As Lube, Stolen Glances, Stolen Moments, Uncircumcised Penis, Uncut Derek Hale, Wall Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-22
Updated: 2020-06-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:47:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24857869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RavenAurelieChoiseau/pseuds/RavenAurelieChoiseau
Summary: Everyone who observed them could see there was an undeniably ravenous animal attraction between Stiles and Derek.No one could deny it.No one except Derek and Stiles, that is.Publicly, they seemed blissfully unaware of the way they gravitated to each other. Like a moon to its planet or a satellite sucked into its natural orbit, they were two fools repressing their boundless, uncontrollable lust.It was only a matter of time before they caved, and Lydia's birthday party was as good a place as any._It's Lydia's birthday party and it's fancy dress. Stiles shows up donning a priest outfit. Derek, having stolen his clothes earlier, comes dressed as Stiles.It doesn't take long before the men find themselves locked in a bedroom. They have more wicked things on their minds than praying.
Relationships: Derek Hale & Stiles Stilinski, Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Comments: 27
Kudos: 265





	Sin and Sinuous

Everyone who observed them could see there was an undeniably ravenous animal attraction between Stiles and Derek.  
No one could deny it.  
No one except Derek and Stiles, that is.

Publicly, they seemed blissfully unaware of the way they gravitated to each other. Like a moon to its planet or a satellite sucked into its natural orbit, they were two fools repressing their boundless, uncontrollable lust.  
  
Every single time they were in the same room, they tried not to show it, but everyone knew. Everyone knew, with eye rolls and shaken heads to prove it.  
It was palpable between them.  
Desire.  
Visceral fucking need.  
It was only a matter of time before they caved, and Lydia's birthday party was as good a place as any. 

-  
  
Stiles’ mind often wandered back to the past. He was an uneasy soul. Restless, some would say.   
He spent more time in reflection, in fact, than he did the present. At least this was the impression his eyes gave.  
The color of molten amber.  
Alien.  
Older than the hours spent breathing on this Earth. Or so Derek thought. Perhaps the weight of his mother’s death was a burden too heavy for his slim shoulders?  
  
Stiles talked a lot, but rarely did he share his _real_ thoughts with the world. To describe Stiles as taciturn would be a grievous misinterpretation. Yet he was a walking contradiction. When he finally opened himself up to someone, he was less verbose and above all wiser than anyone expected for someone his age.  
He chose his words with the same care he chose his friends.  
  
People were wrongly dismissive of him, faulted by his good looks and nervous demeanor. Never judge a book by its cover, said the cliche.  
In fact, Derek knew better. Moments of lost thought led him to muse on how Stiles might have found his way into his heart by sheer accident. A happy accident.   
Was he even human? Perhaps he’d been born of a fallen meteorite. Or better yet… a disgruntled star. Perhaps those gorgeous sad eyes of his _were_ chiselled from Callisto itself?  
Was Derek his Jupiter?  
  
He wished he could be. Yeah. Derek thought about Stiles all the time.  
All.the.time.  
  
The object of his affections fared no better. Pensive by nature, his daydreams scrolled by in his mind like credits at the end of a film. Consumed with liquid longing, the buzzing mess of static that was Stiles’ consciousness had only one name, one face at the forefront: Derek Hale.

They were a mess, these two. And it wasn’t just the overwhelming physical attraction. If either questioned the nature of it, if asked they’d have replied the same thing: it was their souls. Like the near-touching hands of God and Adam in Michelangelo’s fresco… their essences wanted nothing more than to mesh.  
  
-  
Stiles was pretty drunk the night of the party. If he was being honest, he couldn’t remember much from the start, loading up on liquid courage ever since he found out even the sourwolf was coming.   
A first vodka tonic. Then a joke. Scott talking about a crystal, a rabbi, and a traffic cone? Most of the early events were a blur.  
Except for one.  
There was one thing that stuck in his mind. The thing that would make him sober up quickly later on.  
Derek. The moment Derek Hale arrived.   
  
Lydia’s party was when he and Derek would finally get together, though neither had planned for it.  
  
Everyone had come as something or someone else. Derek had… well, Derek being the cheeky bastard he was… he had come as Stiles.  
_Holy shit._  
As soon as Stiles watched him saunter in through the door, that confident sway to his gait… chatter died down immediately. The people crowded into couches and chairs had all swiveled to catch a glance.  
Stiles thought his heart would halt. The gleam of interest in both their eyes was undeniable.   
  
Jesus Christ, Derek was beautiful. (And not just because arguably Stiles was beautiful, too, and now he was dressed _as him. But like… literally him._ Derek must have climbed into Stiles’ window and stolen his clothes. They were a bit of a tight fit which only made mouths water even more).  
  
_Stiles’_ signature jeans _. Stiles’_ checkered shirt and t-shirt combo. His favorite. (And he didn’t know it then, but also Derek’s).  
Stiles couldn’t shake the idea of Derek’s privates being stuffed into the jeans he had put on just yesterday. Fuck, that was hot.  
Despite all that, everyone had to agree that Derek would be breathtaking even if he wore a trash bag.  
  
The thing that made the guests in the room simper… darting their attention between the two with a knowing arrogance… was that Derek only had eyes for Stiles. They lit up like green lanterns as soon as he noticed him standing by the bar, nursing a watered-down vodka tonic.  
Derek’s fucking malachite eyes pinned Stiles’ brownstone ones with a feral look. His gaze warmed his hungry flesh.  
The corners of Derek's mouth broadened into a grin, dazzling against his alabaster skin, when he caught Stiles squirming.   
The asshole had chosen this “costume” deliberately.   
  
Stiles forgot to breathe. He wouldn’t have snapped out of it if it hadn’t been for the click of pool balls hitting each other from the corner of the room and a shout of exultation bringing him crashing back to reality.  
Derek studied him from foot to crown. Stiles was wearing a priest’s vestments and fucking hell if he wasn’t the sexiest man of God Derek had ever seen. His hair had grown out, styled perfectly. He looked like he’d just shaved, a tiny nick dried like a teaser on his throat.  
Derek wanted to lick it.  
_Jesus Christ._  
Everyone was enjoying the way they were eye-fucking each other.

The men just stood there. One with a drink in his quivering hand, the condensation from the ice beading down the glass and onto Stiles’ palm. Heart thundering in his ears.  
The other desperately attempting to keep his cool while fighting a growing erection. Stiles intoxicated his veins like fine liquor.   
  
_Not in these jeans. I can’t afford a boner in these jeans._ Thoughts of dead kittens and world hunger weren’t enough to keep _his_ hunger at bay.  
And that’s what it was. CARNAL YEARNING.  
Stiles did things to him and Derek was man enough to finally admit it.  
  
Time seemed to stop and eventually… _mercifully_ Derek would say later, Lydia greeted him and ushered them both to another room. Stiles followed him out with his roving eyes, a long sigh escaping his plump lips. Was it of relief or dismay… he wasn’t entirely sure.

God help him. The way Derek moved… his deep voice made every molecule in the air tremble… his inky locks falling over his forehead like shiny pencil shavings…  
Stiles was gone for him.  
  
_  
  
A little while and _lots_ of alcohol later, Derek was doing a Karaoke number. It was “Like a Prayer” and the irony was not lost on Stiles, especially since the fucker smirked the whole way through it, never unlocking his stare from the young priest in the back.  
Who knew that Derek was also a good singer? The audience, mesmerized, demanded another.  
  
Derek acted tipsy even though his werewolf senses were sharp. More than happy to oblige, he sang another. Stiles, uncomfortably aroused, stole away to the bathroom between songs. (And he didn’t need that underwear, anyway!)  
It got quite a few laughs when Stiles threw his boxers at Derek when he finished singing “I Touch Myself.” Derek put them in his pocket and didn’t even blush.  
The Alpha would thank him for that gesture later.

At the next song, Stiles got up and sang, too. Asked Derek to stay up there and sing a duet with him. He had to chuckle when he saw the lyrics come up on screen.  
You’ve got to be kidding me, Derek thought.   
But two knew how to play the game. He’d make Stiles pay for all this. He would. In due time.  
  
When Derek was singing “A Whole New World” with him, it was like the words were being spoken just between them. The room faded away. Just them. No one else. They gazed into each other’s eyes as Derek sang the last lyric.  
“Let me share this whole new world with you…”  
  
Then pregnant silence. Derek penetrated the mist in Stiles’ eyes.  
Derek blinked.  
Stiles flushed red.  
Derek was lucky he was aware of the applause and that people were watching their every twitch because honestly he was ready to pounce on him.

-  
They saw each other just a few minutes later and Derek winked at Stiles from across the room.  
Stiles turned scarlet. Somebody giggled nearby. Did they know?  
Fuck it. Stiles didn’t care if they did or not.  
  
Derek unglued his eyes from him just long enough to navigate the bodies in the room. Closed the distance between them and with each step Stiles’ breath shortened further.  
“Hey Derek,” Stiles said, meekly. _Hey?!  
_He looked down at the ground and then let his gaze drift back up to Derek’s gorgeous, grinning face.  
  
“Hey Stiles,” Derek replied, voice a rumble in his broad chest. "Nice costume."   
Stiles’ confidence from moments ago evaporated like the alcohol nearly gone from his cup. Derek’s magnetic eyes were liquid pools of desire. The sparkle in them spelled mischief.  
  
"I could say the same... _Stiles_. Did you break into my house?"  
  
The bend to his head said yes, yes I did. How else would he have procured Stiles' clothes?  
“Nice party Lydia’s throwing,” Derek commented superficially before slowly licking his throbbing lips. A sip of whiskey wasn't what Derek needed to quench this thirst. What he desired stood having an anxiety attack right before him.   
  
Stiles gulped. Wished there had been more vodka in his drink.  
  
Derek was done playing games, also because soon he wouldn't be able to hide the enormous bulge in his jeans. They were really getting critically tight.   
He just went for it.  
“Listen. You wouldn’t wanna?” A lilt of the head indicated the door leading to the bedrooms, one corner of his perfect mouth curled. The proposition sent a ripple of electricity through Stiles.   
And then Derek smirked. That fucking smirk that made desire burn through the pit of Stiles’ belly and sent his pulse racing.  
  
Stiles drew in a stuttered gasp. “You... you mean now?”  
The tone was panicked. Unsure. Stiles tugged on his ear, eyes darting around the room as if someone had overheard.  
What the fuck are you thinking, Stiles?! Of course you want to! his brain screamed. 

He instantly regretted saying that.  
  
“Look, if you’re not interested…” _Maybe?_ A dark eyebrow raise asked before Derek even uttered a word. He sucked in some air in what seemed a half-laugh.  
  
Stiles came to his senses. Shook the anxiety from his head like a cobweb. They’d been dancing around this for months. What did he fucking want, a love declaration? What were they... in middle school?  
Both knew all they wanted was to lose themselves in one another. Physically above all. The sexual tension was suddenly thicker than the icing on Lydia’s cake.  
  
“What I meant was of course I do. Of course.” The hardness of bare sex beneath his tunic was convincing him to act fast.  
“Alright then… let’s go, _Father Stiles_.“ Derek winked once more. The final blow.  
Father Stiles? Suddenly a vision of Derek on his knees in penitence popped up like a billboard in his mind. Fuck me, Stiles thought and his cock shot up another inch.  
  
-  
  
They strolled to the furthest bedroom, nestled at the back of Lydia’s huge house. Judging from some noises coming from behind the closed doors, they weren’t the only ones to have this idea.  
  
Stiles was dying. This was the longest fucking walk ever. Like the green mile except it wasn’t towards certain death, it was towards certain _sweet_ death by sexing with one Derek Hale.  
All the while Derek had a hand in his tight pocket and was whistling under his breath.   
_Fucker._  
  
The door slammed behind them. Derek’s composure extinguished like the candles Lydia had blown out earlier.   
Stiles couldn’t remember who made the first move… and did it really matter?  
  
Their first kiss was rough. Bleeding need. Teeth clashed, tongues obscenely offered for the sole purpose of being sucked. A tremor tightened the muscles in Stiles' lower half.   
"Der... "  
  
When their lips grazed, nipping and tugging on pink flesh, Derek raised his smooth palms and cupped Stiles’ cheeks until their faces scrunched and their breathing hitched.  
Stiles took air in through his nose, inebriated by the scent of spice and musk emanating from his lover’s skin. Fingers air danced to Derek's swollen member, ghosting over it.   
Derek let a loud growl escape him, Stiles smiling against his lips.  
  
Stiles pulled away. Briefly. Licked the slick from his pout and put to memory Derek’s taste.  
Derek was icy pomelo on a summer afternoon. Refreshing. Salty. A bit sour. And just a hint of mint, but not as much as Stiles thought there would be.  
He must have swallowed his gum before the kiss.   
  
Derek’s feelings took hold and turned his mind to mush. His concentration scattered.   
“I want you,” his breath tickled Stiles’ ear as he held him close. “I want you,” he repeated for emphasis, more lust behind it the second time, thickening the tone.  
  
You don’t say no to this Adonis when he says something like that!

“Der…” Stiles begged, the name smooth against his tongue. “Take me.”   
  
Derek moaned, clutching Stiles with clawed fingers, pulling at the fabric of his tunic to feel for what was underneath. The telltale shape stood out between them, especially with the weight it had against Stiles’ thigh.  
Derek remembered pleasantly that Stiles wasn’t wearing any underwear. It had been thrown on the makeshift stage earlier and was now a keepsake stuffed into his back pocket.  
  
He dropped in worship just like Stiles had imagined and the brunette just about fainted.  
Stiles hissed when his cock was exposed. Derek lifted the dark material over the tenting, bunching it at his stomach.

”Hold it,” he barked at Stiles, the sight of its girth sending shivers through him.  
The reddened crown was dewy and the vein running along the “priest’s” impressive cock visibly throbbed.  
“Fuck... Stiles.”  
  
Derek slinked down, stayed his thighs. Licked the tip with the rosette of his tongue until slowly the heat covered its length like a cloak. “Oh shit,” Stiles groaned, slipping backwards into nothing. His free hand fisted into those silky black tufts, a half-lidded view of Derek Hale choking on his cock a very impressive sight.  
_Remember this. Burn it to memory._  
  
Derek was _humming_ as he worked the shaft. Jesus, the constriction around his crown was _perfect_ and fuck if Derek’s manicured beard didn’t lightly grate against the sensitive flesh of Stiles’ inner thigh.  
It was heavenly.  
  
Speaking of heaven, the rosary looped into his belt to complete the outfit swung against his hip with every dip of Derek’s hot mouth. The moist ridge of his muscle ran along the thick member until Stiles couldn’t fight it anymore.  
Jesus Fucking Christ.  
Derek felt him tense. Blinked with those caterpillar lashes. Lips sealed around the head in promise, he hollowed his cheeks as he pumped him, two handed. Jade eyes speckled with amber urged his lover on.

If this were a penance, there wouldn’t be enough Hail Marys, Stiles thought. Somewhere his religious mother was rolling over in her grave.  
_Baby Jesus, forgive me!_  
“I’m coming, Der. I’m coming.”The first spurt came violently, splashing the back of his throat. Stiles’ knees nearly gave with the next two. “Fuck, Der!”   
  
Derek swallowed it all down. Just a droplet remained on the heart of his upper lip and Stiles lunged at him when he pulled off, tasting himself on his swollen, ruddy lips when he insisted on kissing him open mouthed and sloppy.  
“How fucking sexy are you, sweet God?” He whispered, eyes burning into Derek’s.  
  
If love was blasphemy, he was just going to keep taking this unholy road.  
  
Derek shoved him against the wall, Stiles’ lower lip still trapped between his teeth. A finger hooked into his Roman collar as he undid his own pants with his other hand.  
“Do as I say, Father, and I’ll absolve you of your sins.”  
“Oh my God,” Stiles muttered under his breath. 

“Can you behave for me, Stiles?”  
What on earth was Derek doing?! Did he want to kill him before he got off? ”Yes Derek...” Stiles mumbled. “I’ll behave.”

Derek flipped him, nudging a knee between his strong legs.  
“Don’t move,” Derek commanded and holy hell if Stiles didn’t fucking cum a little all over again, the release trickling down the inside of his thigh.  
Derek threw the shirts on the bed. Shimmied out of the pants and his briefs went with them. Stiles admired it all… his superlative body… the ridges of his abs and the dark curls nestled above the most beautiful cock Stiles had ever seen.  
Long, thick. A ringlet of pink flesh peeking from beneath the foreskin.   
The perfect Alpha cock.  
  
Derek wanted him… needed him. He pushed Stiles down, nudging him with paws on his shoulders.  
“Get on your knees, Stiles. Kiss it.”

Christ alive! The younger reached for it with a quivering hand, fisting it with some difficulty at the base. Kitten licks on the shiny crown lit a fire in the Alpha.  
“Look at you. You’re so needy. Tell me you want me.” Derek liked to see him so hungry for his sex.  
Stiles nodded, face wrecked with yearning. “I want you, Der. Fuck, I’m begging you. Let me suck it.”  
  
Placing the tip against his gaping mouth, Der’s hand reached around to the back of Stiles’ head. Inching it in, Stiles’ lashes fluttering as he looked up at him in want… Derek ordered: “If you want it, show me how much. Suck my cock like your life depends on it.”  
  
Stiles went down on him like it was his fucking job, the briny glans hitting the back of his throat like a jackhammer. Derek lamented from above, loud moaning between giving instruction as Stiles plunged and licked his shaft.  
“That’s it, Stiles… harder… “ Stiles increased the suction, purposely loosening until he could take all of him in past his tonsils. The shadow of it stretched the skin on Stiles' neck.   
Each push that tunneled his rod deep made Stiles fight past the choke.   
"Ack...agh! Ack gah..."   
  
"Fuck yeah, take it!"   
Unhooking his jaw, he went balls deep. Derek cradled his head. With quick snaps of his hips, he face fucked him. “Shit… so good, Stiles. Just like that, baby.”  
  
Stiles was an expert. Applied pressure and took it away. He blinked back tears... gurgled and spit poured down his chin but he didn’t ask to pull off until it was Derek who realized he was too close. This couldn’t end so soon.  
“Fuck…”  
  
Derek used his muscled body to pin Stiles against the wall. A hand moved lightly down his inner thigh, spit coating his digits. Stiles hissed when he got there, to his opening. He wanted to be fucked by Der more than anything else in the world.  
“Fuck me, Derek!”  
In and out, the ribbed opening swallowed two fingers. A brush of his gland and Stiles’ eyes rolled into the back of his head. Derek chuckled and added another finger.  
“Like this? You want me to fuck you like this?”  
"YES!"  
  
Teeth, nails, and then more heat. Clenching and unclenching of muscle. Stiles white-knuckled the fabric of his tunic he was still holding up. Derek insisted on him keeping it on, turned on to no end.  
“Derek I’m begging you.” Stiles’ skin was on fire. Every nerve sensitive… each graze fucking sweet torture.  
Derek growled to each of Stiles’ whimpers, the smell of cum and sweat in the room messed with him, with his senses. He needed to fuck him… to be inside him NOW.  
  
“Spread for me,” Derek whispered, his breath warm and sweet. Just the tip of his tongue teased the corner of Stiles’ gaping mouth. Pleasure ricocheted through them.   
Stiles’ feet slid apart and he let his head dip low between his arms.  
“Wait while I get… “   
Blinded by longing, his entire body aching for him… Stiles glanced over his shoulder. Pupils blown in lust as he shook his head vehemently. “No. I want you dirty. Raw me, Derek.”  
  
The knowing look. The smirk. The bounce of Derek's member against his balls. It was worse than any instrument of sexual torture.  
“You sure?”  
Derek knew he couldn’t transmit disease, but he wanted to know that Stiles trusted him, regardless.  
“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”  
  
He inched forward, his glistening length bouncing against his stomach and running back to Stiles' balls. A gentle nudge lifted Stiles’ ass, lined up with his bleeding cock, letting it slide between the cheeks.  
Stiles’ head bobbed in ecstasy.   
Derek smiled suggestively, saliva filling his mouth at the longing. Bending down, velvet strokes of Derek's tongue played with the crevice of his ass until Stiles couldn't take the wait anymore.  
“Raw me, Der. Don’t keep me waiting, sourwolf. PLEASE."   
“Jesus Christ…” Derek grunted. _  
_   
He lifted his head to nuzzle into his throat. Dick twitching in his trembling hand.  
“Look at me, Stiles.” A sweep of slick lips and a bat of thick lashes. “Are you mine?”  
  
Stiles swallowed hard. Nodded. “Yeah, I’m yours. All yours. I’ve only ever wanted you.”  
With a lazy, sensuous movement, his tongue entered Stiles’ mouth again. Claiming it. Claiming him. And then his sex followed.  
Hands bracketed his waist as he disappeared inside him, one deep and desperate thrust enough to reach the hilt. _  
_ “Oh shit…”

When he buried himself in Stiles' heat, it was like diving in the ocean. A dull in consciousness, Derek's human vision blurred and his hearing silenced by their racing pulses.  
It sucked the air from Stiles’ lungs with a sharp gasp. Something that felt like home.   
  
“Fuck yeah… like that, Der!” _  
_Derek snaked his powerful arm around Stiles as he moved inside him, holding him like he was trying to save them both from drowning.  
The drag on his cock was so fucking perfect it brought tears to his eyes. He dug into slim hips and pounded Stiles until he was cheek to wall.  
Stiles settled back, seeking him.  
“More. I want more _.”_ He uttered it in a soft whisper, almost in apnea, the need so tight in his chest it made him hiccup for air.  
  
With the next thrust, deeper and more violent than ever before, chocolate licks of hair sprouted from between Derek’s fingers as he yanked Stiles’ head back. His tongue wandered up the cord of his neck, nibbling on his earlobe, making him shudder against his bare barrel chest. He left his scent wherever he could- he would have licked Stiles from head to toe if he could have.   
“Like this, you want my cock like this?” he asked through gritted teeth.   
  
Stiles could barely stand, drunk on lust and the wolf’s very essence. His nostrils came alive with Derek's pheromones.   
“Yeah, Derek. Like this… I want… give me… give me your knot. Mark me. Mate me."   
  
WHAT?! Derek rolled his hips. Expletives rained down and Stiles couldn’t believe it, but the heat was rising in him AGAIN. What was this man doing to him?!   
He shocked even himself. In that moment all Stiles wanted from his life was to BE DEREK'S.   
  
Chest rising and falling against his back, Derek fucked him in a sweet rhythm, slow and deep until he himself skirted his end.  
The concave hollow of Stiles’ spine tingled at every touch. The ache… the emptiness of his loins now filled with delicious hot thickness.  
Stiles pushed back on every plunge as if all of Der’s huge uncut cock still wasn’t enough. The recoil allowed Stiles to fuck himself.  
“Stiles ….I’m … “ Der stuttered.  
He made as if to pull out. Stiles sucked in his lower lip, shuddering under him in complete abandon.  
“Come inside. Give me your knot!”  
“Christ!”  
  
Derek barely finished his cry when he released. Thick warmth spilled into Stiles repeatedly as Derek broke skin and bit his neck, marking him.   
  
It was delicate. Polite, almost. The cum inside him kept sloshing and his warm blood trickled down his chest and Derek's chin as he drank from him.  
Bliss.  
Like pouring warm oil over your skin and allowing it to drench you in its softening silkiness. That’s kind of what it felt like to be mated.   
  
Stiles’ hand milked his third orgasm from his own dick as the jizz dripped onto the floor in front of his feet in slow, obscene plops.  
Panting against Stiles’ back, Derek kissed him gently between the shoulder blades as his knot inflated. Up his nape to the sweep of his cheek.  
His hand reached around, but there was no need. His fingers ended up in warm stickiness. Stiles had come almost with him, so intensely he couldn’t even articulate a lament.  
  
“I can feel it, Der. I can feel it expanding. I can feel the sear spreading through my body, too."   
  
It was. It was stretching his insides, sealing all of Derek’s come inside him. The mark was coursing heat through his veins.   
It felt deliciously wicked being claimed by him, at the back of a house during a party when people least expected them to go through with _this._  
A quickie… sure. But not this.

Everything about their first lovemaking, hurried and bordering on desperate, was predictable. Except for the claim. Stiles hadn’t planned on that happening, but now he was thrilled it had.  
Derek held Stiles, cheek pressed to the top of his shoulder, whispering beautiful things to him.   
They breathed as one until finally his Alpha knot shrank and his cock slipped out of his lover, coated in slick.   
  
It was long in coming and they had desired a quick release, (at least that first night it was so). When their mating faded, their sweaty bodies slowly broke apart. The taste of Derek’s lips (and other things) still lingered in Stiles’ mouth as they finally looked upon each other with new eyes.  
There was tenderness. A bond. Derek's expression softened completely in adoration.   
  
“I still can’t believe it. I mean… you wanted to knot me, right _?”_ Stiles asked hesitantly, letting the robe drop back down over his nakedness.   
With an edge, almost as if he was afraid of being rejected, he reached for him with fingers that played the air. “Because I’m in love with you, Derek. This wasn’t some lust-filled whim for me.”   
  
Derek’s grinning mouth swooped down to capture Stiles’ one more time. What a silly boy.  
That fucking sparkle to his moss eyes was back, replacing the want. He grabbed him by the chin and nodded slowly as he pulled him into an embrace.  
“I’m in love with you, too, Stiles. As soon as you asked my heart lurched. All I’ve wanted is to make you mine, and now you are. So yeah, to answer your question I wanted to more than anything else in the world.”  
“So we’re kinda boyfriends now, huh?” Stiles wasn't sure what to say. How to ask where things would go from here.   
  
“Way more than that,” Derek replied with a devastating dimple to his cheeks. “Consider yourself off the market. We're mated. You're stuck with me, baby. You're stuck with me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I felt this story belonged here, so I hope you enjoyed it! Not going to lie, Stiles as a priest is only slightly less hot than Derek Hale as a priest. So I'll be over that image in a few months lmao!  
> kudo and comment if you wish, I always appreciate hearing from my readers.


End file.
